Sunday, September 06, 2015

"With that he rose to a full tree-high standing, the sable cat-guts which held his bog-cloth drawers to the hems of his jacket of pleated fustian clanging together in melodious discourse."

Which is, of course, from Flann O'Brien's At Swim-Two-Birds. Plucked off the shelf this afternoon for whatever reason & just the ticket. To be sure.

No comments:

April Fool?